“Baby—”
“No!”I snap.“You asked for the truth, and there it is.I don’t want to have this conversation anymore.”
I hang up, tossing my phone beside me.A tired sigh leaves my lips.The taste of my lips has turned sour in my mouth, so I abandon it.I reach for my covers, but then a rustling sound from my living room catches my attention.
I glance around my room for something I can grab to defend myself, but I don’t see anything.I consider hiding under the covers, but anxiety crashes through me at the thought of someone breaking into my room.
I carefully make my way to the living room, instinctively grabbing a nearby vase.I’m prepared for anything that can go wrong—a man in a haunting mask, someone with a gun, or being knocked out from behind.
Everything except a toned, muscular, familiar back that faces me and a sinful figure that glides around my open-plan kitchen, as if it belongs to him.
“Excuse you?”I screech, flinching slightly when the vase goes crashing to the floor.
He spins around, those green eyes locking on me.They make me feel naked in my blush-pink silk nightie.
“Sit.”
I ignore him.“What the hell are you doing here?”I haven’t seen him since the night he fucked my mouth, told me I now belong to him, then disappeared into thin air.
It’s been five days and eight hours, give or take.
Yes, I’ve been counting.
His gaze hardens, but I don’t back down.I maintain an intimidating stare.Something about defying him is such a turn-on.
“Sit your ass down and stop acting like a brat, Capri,” he says through clenched teeth, his voice tinged with frustration.
I glare at him, but hop on the stool.
“Now, what?”I fold my arms.
He whips out a black ceramic plate and dishes some food on it.He pushes the plate toward me afterward.
It was mashed potatoes and beef sauce.
“Eat.”
“I don’t want your poison.Thank you.”I fake a smile at him.
“You can eat it now, or I swear to God, I’ll shove it down your throat.”His darkened eyes rest on me, silently pushing me into submission.
My stomach growls, and I quickly avoid his eyes, digging into the food.
A moan slips from my mouth at the first taste.He might look like the devil’s first son, but he cooks so well.
He pops a bottle of red wine open and fills up a glass, passing me mine before filling his own.
“So do you feed all your hostages?”I sass him, taking a sip from my wine.
“Only you.”
My cheeks burn slightly at his words, and I look away.I can’t help it after a while.My eyes land on an ouroboros tattoo that covers the palm of his right hand up to his wrist.I never noticed it before, and now that I have, I find it so hard to avert my eyes.
It’s so attractive.
“Who is it?”
I blink, confused.“Who’s what?”
